Maybe
by Beckilles
Summary: One Shots...Some angst..Past and Present. Cal and Gillian.
1. Fake

She has always been good at hiding things from the people around her. Growing up, she has become proficiently skilled in hiding her thoughts, her feelings,  
her desires, her scars, her secrets, and her past.

_Lie to Me and its characters are creations of Samuel Baum and copyrighted by 20th Century Fox._ _Unfortunately they are not mine._

_A/N: An older story that i finally had edited. So some of you may have seen it already.  
Thank you to my lovely Beta: Starbuck0322 {{HUGS}}_

* * *

_1. Fake_

* * *

She has become an expert at faking a laugh; while deep down inside she is secretly dying.

She has mastered her walk and posture to exude dignity, grace and confidence, to those around her.

She will never believe it though, not for a single second, that she actually possesses those qualities.

She has perfected her smile. No one would guess that it has taken her years of practice, which enables her to fake it to perfection.

She has become so good at hiding and faking, that those around her think she is the definition of perfect innocence.

They put her on a pedestal; look to her to fix _all_ their problems, like she is _Mother Fuckin' Superior!_

Sometimes it becomes to much, that she just wants to scream.

_Genuine, happy, bubbly..._

_Sunshine, lollipops and fucking rainbows; _that is what people associate with Gillian Foster.

She wants to tell them that she isn't_ perfect_; she isn't _innocent._

She wants so badly; to get down off that_ fucking _pedestal and tell them they are wrong.

She isn't_ happy._

She isn't_ okay._

She's dying inside and wants to make it stop; make the pain go away, erase her past, and get him to notice her, to see her.

_Really _see her.

She laughs ruefully.

Working with the best deception experts in the world and even they can't tell she is lying, faking it; pretending!

_...Or maybe he can..._

Maybe he _is_ respecting that bloody line.

For once she wishes he would break their self-imposed rules and step across the line.

Shake the truth out of her... _All_ of her truth! And then maybe she wouldn't feel so alone, burdened and drowning in the secrets of her past.

Maybe one day she will tell him.._.Everything._

But not today, today she will keep on faking. She'll fix her smile as she glides down the corridor of The Lightman Group; head held high, perkiness lacing her voice,  
as she jokes with him about something.

Today, maybe just being around him is enough to keep her demons at bay.

_Maybe._

But then again...

_Maybe not._

* * *

_Comments always appreciated. Constructive or otherwise :)_


	2. An open wound

_Lie to Me and its characters are creations of Samuel Baum and copyrighted by 20th Century Fox._ _Unfortunately they are not mine._

_A/N: An older story that i finally had edited and changed a bit._

_Thank you to my lovely Beta: Starbuck0322 _

**Post Ep - Veronica : Angst/Hurt**.

* * *

_2. An open wound, that never healed._

* * *

Gillian Foster sat in the darkened confines of her office; the only light came from the harsh glow of the city below. She had never liked the dark, but tonight it comforted her; she felt safe, as she hid from the world. In the darkness, no one could see her tear streaked face, no one could see the mascara trails that graced her delicate cheeks. Not that there was anyone left in the building; she was the last one left in the office... _Again._

It had been a hard case, for her at least. She was positive the case had been difficult for Cal; bringing up memories from his past. But right now she didn't care about his feelings. She had tried to ask him earlier, but like always, he had brushed her aside.

Veronica had been trapped by the memories of her past, consumed by the guilt of her actions. She blamed herself for her sister's death as she had been the one to convince her that aborting her baby was the right course of action and had arranged it.

Gillian had frozen for a moment, when Veronica revealed her secret. She remembered the tightness in her chest as it felt like the oxygen had been stolen from her lungs. She was unsure if Cal had noticed. He had been too consumed by his own thoughts to have seen the slight change in demeanour, her sharp intake of breath, and the forlorn look that momentarily ghosted over her face. For once she was glad he couldn't see her face. She quickly regained control of her emotions, and fixed her mask firmly back in place. However now, as she sat alone in the privacy of her office, she no longer had to pretend, no longer had to hide. Emotionally exhausted, she was no longer able to hold back her tears and allowed them fall.

She thought she was over _it_; thought she had moved passed it._ For god's sake it had been nineteen years_, she thought angrily.

The case had triggered her memory; a memory she had buried so deep that the mere thought of it brought her close to breaking point. She had never shared it with anyone; not with Alec, not with Cal, and not even with her boyfriend at the time. She had kept it buried deep inside, hidden from everyone.

* * *

Gillian had been in her second year of college, everything had been going smoothly and according to plan. She had good friends, a loyal boyfriend; she was on track and heading towards her goal. Life could not have been better.

It had been Christmas break, and Gillian had decided to spend it with friends. They had chosen to fly down to Cabo, where they could have some fun, relax and unwind before class started back up. Gillian had felt ill before they had left, but had assumed that the stress of her classes had caught up with her. Her boyfriend always attentive and caring had worried, but she assured him there was nothing wrong. It wasn't until the second last day of the trip, that she had realized that she was over three weeks _late._

It was _probably_ nothing, she had been stressed over classes, it was more than likely due to that, she had thought. However she had been unable to shake the anxious feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach and had decided once she arrived home, she'd take a pregnancy test just to calm her fears. She never mentioned anything to her friends or boyfriend; _why bother_ she reasoned; she didn't want them to worry for what was more than likely, a false alarm. She had continued on with the vacation like nothing was bothering her.

Gillian had arrived back at her dorm after stopping by the pharmacy. She remembered staring at the white stick, as her hands trembled; thinking that if she looked at it long enough the results would change; that there wouldn't be two tiny blue lines glaring back at her.

Her first thought was _that it had to be a mistake, a false positive_, so she repeated the test. She remembered she stood in her bathroom unable to move, to breathe, to think as she looked at the four positive tests in front of her, before she sank to the floor; hugged her knees tightly to her chest and cried. After a few hours the sobs subsided and she knew what she had to do. She loved her boyfriend, but she knew they weren't ready to become parents; she wasn't ready to have a child. They were barely twenty-one; she still had so much more she wanted to do, to achieve, to experience. She couldn't do this to him either; she couldn't let this ruin him, and their dreams, their aspirations_.  
_

She rang the clinic the following day, made an appointment and that was it. She remembered sitting under the florescent lights in the waiting room. They had called her name, had gotten her to fill out some forms, and told her it wouldn't be long. She had never felt more alone. She remembered the burn behind her eyes, as she fought back the tears she had refused to let herself cry.

_This was for the best, she had kept telling herself. It was the right thing to do_.

Classes had started a week later, and she was there front and centre, like always. She had been having minor cramps, however the doctors had told her that would be normal. So she took the pain killers she was prescribed and continued on. A week later the cramps hadn't gone, so she went back for her check up. The doctor had told her that she had a slight infection and prescribed her antibiotics.

W_hat Gillian was unaware of at the time, was that this infection would turn out to affect her chances of conceiving later on in life._

Gillian remembered the pain eventually subsiding, and throwing herself into her studies.

She remembered the countless fights she would always initiate with her boyfriend, pushing him away. The reckless weekends of binge drinking she would participate in. She found it was the easiest way to forget _everything_. Forget her life, forget what she had done, forget the_ shame_ she felt; that she _still_ felt.

A few months after the _'incident',_ he ended their relationship. She couldn't really blame him; she was expecting it. Maybe even hoping for it, in some strange way, she didn't really know.

* * *

Now as she sat in the darkened room, her memories consumed her.

Sadness griped her middle, the pain she had felt all those years ago washed over her; it was an open wound that never had a chance to heal. She had never forgotten, but she prayed that one day the memory would fade and the pain would ebb away. However, it was after cases like this, that she found it hard to suppress the feelings that she had never dealt with. She was unable to prevent the onslaught of emotions that they would induce.

_Memories of what she once had. _

_What she could've had._

_What she gave up. _

_What she had lost._

_And what she would never have.  
_

She thought of calling Cal; but what good would it do? He'd only ask questions, questions she didn't want answers to. Questions she had avoided for the last nineteen years.

She felt the _guilt_ eat away at her.

She _wished_ that things could be different.

She wished she could _forget_, even just for a day.

Gillian stood and looked down at the world below. She felt her body begin to shake in an effort to contain the sobs which had begun to rake through her small frame.

She didn't hear the door open behind her.

She didn't hear the footsteps approaching her desk.

It was not until she felt strong arms engulf her, did she realise that Cal had wrapped her up in a bone crushing embrace. He whispered soothing words to her as he gently stoked one hand through her hair, as he gently wrapped his free arm around her tiny waist.

She collapsed against him and he guided them to the floor. He propped himself up against her desk and cradled her in his lap. She felt so small and fragile in his arms he thought sadly, as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He had only seen her like this a hand full of times

Cal didn't say a word; he simply held her tightly to his chest and let her cry. He softly ran his fingers up and down her back in an attempt offer her the comfort she needed.

Cal had noticed the small change in her after they had spoken to Veronica, but he chose to leave it; he knew she would eventually tell him... _One day_.

Gillian needed him; now more than ever.

Despite the rough patch that they had been going through, she wa_s;_

_His best friend,_

_His better half,_

_His soul mate._

She meant more to him than she would ever be able to truly comprehend. So he sat; tried to absorb her pain and take it away somehow.

Gillian didn't know if Cal was aware of what had triggered her breakdown.

But in that moment, she didn't care if he knew or not.

She was grateful he was there, holding her, comforting her, he was her life line.

Maybe she would tell him one day.

Maybe she wouldn't have to.

* * *

**_Reviews, comments (constructive or otherwise) always appreciated._**


	3. Sophie

**They aren't mine.. you know the usual disclaimer. **

**A/N:**  
If there are any mistakes/errors please let me know! Cheers.  
**Thanks to the usual peeps :) Love ya!**

* * *

**_3. Sophie_**

* * *

Sitting at his desk, Cal picked up his cell and called her number. It was past midday and she still hadn't checked in. He hadn't seen or heard from her all day which was very unlike Gillian. Maybe something had come up with Sophie and she had forgotten to call in. He could remember what is was like when Emily was a baby; running around out of your element trying to do a million things at once.

Waiting a moment, he heard Gillian's voicemail answer. "Hey love, it's me. Just checking in. Call me when you can," he said before hanging up.

She had probably meant to call but just been side tracked he thought; a smile tugged at his lips as he thought of her nursing a sleeping Sophie in her arms.

She was a natural; motherhood definitely suited her. She had a radiant glow about her. Mothering was second nature to Gillian, and after all the pain that she and Alec had gone through, trying to conceive, he was happy for her. Happy that she was finally able to have the family she yearned for, that she deserved. Even if it was with Alec, he thought bitterly.

Cal remembered all the times Emily would come into the office. She would run and greet Gillian, rather than come into see him first. He chucked lightly to himself. At times he felt Gillian was more of a mother figure then Zoe had been. Of course Zoe loved Em; he never doubted that. However, there was something about Gillian; her warmth, the way she was able to love unconditionally. The way she made everything seem alright, and how she had taken to Emily instantly, treating her as if she were her own. He was grateful Emily had someone like Gillian, and he knew Emily adored her.

Cal remembered coming home from the office one night to an extremely annoyed Zoe. Apparently Emily had to write about what she wanted to be when she grew up for a project in school and she happened to write Gillian. Not a psychologist or doctor, but she had written that she wanted to grow up to be '_Miss Gillian Foster'_. Cal couldn't hide his amused expression, which in turn, led to a fight between him and Zoe about how Emily was her daughter and not Gillian's, and that she had forbade her to come to the office anymore. He remembered that fight was especially nasty as he tried to keep the peace but he felt compelled to stand up for Gillian. She had done nothing to deserve the attack from Zoe. He remembered spending the next week in the guest bedroom.

A week or so later, Gillian had inquired as to why Emily hadn't been around. He had made up some story about Zoe wanting to spend more quality time with her. He would never forget the look in Gillian's eyes when he told her, how she tried to hide the hurt. She knew it was more than that; she knew he had just lied to her, and she knew that she was somehow the reason.

Shaking his head slightly, he pushed those thoughts aside. If she hadn't called in by the end of the day, he would pop by her place on the way home just to see if she needed anything. If he was honest with himself, he'd have to admit that it was a good excuse to see Gillian in her element, nursing her beautiful baby girl.

Kicking his feet off the desk, he jammed his cell into his pocket. Checking his emails to see if he'd received any form her, all he found was the usual requests, but nothing from Gillian. Sighing to himself, he pushed in his chair before sauntering off in search of Loker.

It was mid-evening and Cal fidgeted nervously with his cell. He hadn't heard from Gillian all day and that wasn't like her at all. Switching off his computer, he walked out of his office, trying her cell once again. Expecting it to ring, he was surprised when it went straight to voicemail. Gillian never turned her phone off, ever, he thought worriedly. Making his way to the car, he wasted no time as he tore out of the parking lot, and headed towards her house. Gripping the steering wheel tightly he tried to calm himself. He told himself that he was more than likely overreacting to the situation, that everything was perfectly fine; however, an uneasy feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach.

Speeding through the streets of D.C, he pulled onto Gillian's street twenty minutes later, not caring that he just violated several laws as he rushed to her house. Pulling the car to a stop in front, he saw her car parked in the drive way. Her house clouded in darkness, he couldn't see a single light coming from the windows, which he thought was strange.

Cal jogged up to the front door and listened for movement. Hearing nothing, he gently knocked and waited a moment. Becoming anxious, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his keys, finding the brightly coloured orange one that Gillian had 'especially made for him' in case of emergencies, she had said with a small smile. Slipping the key into the lock, he noted that is wasn't locked and opened the door, entering the darkened confines of her home. Everything looked in order as he walked down the hallway, flicking on a light as he went. He observed the washing basket at the bottom of the staircase, neatly folded baby clothing in it, and smiled to himself.

He moved further into the house, and in walking past the kitchen, he peered in. Cal noticed the dishes were still on the table, food left unfinished on them. He saw the baby bottles strewn about on the floor haphazardly, but what caught his attention the most was the smell of stale scotch. Switching on the light, he found the source. Broken shards of glass littered the floor, and a sizable mark was left on the wall from where he assumed the bottle had struck. His heart hammered against his chest, as he spotted a few drops of blood on the floor. _Christ, what the hell happened here?_

Instinct kicking in, he ran up the stairs to Gillian's bedroom but found it empty. He stopped for moment and heard a soft whimper coming in the direction of the nursery. He approached cautiously, listening for any other sounds, as he tried to make sense of the situation.

The nursery door was slightly ajar, and he gave it a gentle nudge as he opened it fully. There was a small night light in the corner which cast soft shadows over the room, letting his eyes adjust and spot a crumpled up figure leaning against the crib. He could recognise her anywhere, he thought. Gillian had her knees pulled tightly to her chest, clutching onto a pink baby blanket. She stared motionlessly at the wall in front of her.

"Gill," he called softly, hoping to break her trance. His eyes roamed over her face, he could see they were red rimmed and bloodshot. Her cheeks were stained from tears that had fallen earlier.

Fear griped his middle instantly. Crouching down beside her, he tried again.

"Love, are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Gillian's gaze shifted from the wall to Cal for a brief moment, as she gave a slight shake of her head in response, before staring blankly at her lap.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, pull her into a bone crushing embrace, but stopped himself. "Love, where's Alec?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral as he watched her closely.

"Out," she stated simply, her voice void of emotion. Cal watched as a brief glimmer of emotion flickered across her features. Her eyes narrowed and as her jaw clenched tightly.

Cal balled his hands into fists at his side, trying to suppress the anger he felt for the man she called her husband. He looked into the crib and found it empty.

"Gill, where's Sophie?" he probed gently. He silently prayed that Alec didn't have her.

"Gone," she whispered, her voice wavering.

Cal looked at her, confusion evident on his features. "Gone?" he repeated. "Does Alec have her?" he asked quietly.

"No," she told him bitterly. "She's with her _mother."_

He watched as tears pooled in her eyes and realisation dawned upon him. Reaching out, he gathered her in his arms and pulled her into his lap.

"I'm so sorry, love. God Gill, I'm so sorry." He whispered softly into her hair, stroking her back as he felt her body shake uncontrollably.

She let the tears fall, coming undone the moment his strong arms wrap. Closing her eyes tightly, shutting out the world, she clutched to his shirt. Burying her face into his chest, she soaked the material in seconds.

He rocked her gently and heard her gasping for air.

He felt her breathing become shallow and he stilled their movement, gently cupping her cheeks.

"Deep breaths, love," he told her gently.

"That's it, that's my girl." He quietly encouraged as she slowed her breathing. His thumbs caressed her tear stained cheeks, and he placed delicate kisses to each eye lid, as if doing so would somehow ease her pain.

The pain of having her daughter taken from her.

The pain of losing something that could never be replaced.

He knew it was foolish to think he could take it away, but if he could, he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him through glassy eyes.

He could see the anguish on her face, the sadness in her eyes, and his heart broke.

She moved her arms to encircle his neck, and rested her forehead against his.

"They called over the weekend. They took her last night," she told him softly, her voice cracking. "They took my daughter. Alec and I got into a fight. He couldn't handle it, so he left. HE LEFT, Cal," she cried, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Who does that? He left me here. He left and he didn't even say goodbye to her. He said he couldn't. He couldn't say goodbye to our fucking daughter." She sobbed as her body trembled violently.

Cal held her, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat. She didn't deserve this; she deserved so much more, he thought angrily. He couldn't believe Alec had left her here, to deal with it on her own. He should have been here for her. _Why hadn't she called him? Why hadn't he come earlier_?

Cal was brought out of his thoughts when she tightened her hold around his neck. Shifting in his lap, he suppressed a moan deep in his throat.

Placing a soft kiss to his lips, she looked down at him. "Please, Cal. Make it stop," she pleaded, kissing him again, letting her tongue briefly trace over his lips.

"Make it go away," she whimpered softly, before leaning in and capturing his lips. There was nothing tender in her kiss; she needed to feel something, anything other than the agonizing ache that was currently surging through her body.

She knew it was wrong, knew what she was doing wasn't right. Her best friend; the one man she could always count on, was here comforting her, instead of the man she married.

Cal's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected this response, however he parted his lips briefly and let his tongue brush against hers. She shifted in his lap, causing him to groan into her mouth.

Tearing his lips away from hers, he took a second to catch his breath. "Gill, stop. This isn't you." He told her gently, his strong hands at the nape of her neck.

She moved her hand from around his neck, and raked her nails down his chest. Feeling the muscles quiver beneath her touch. She reached the belt buckle, fumbling slightly as she shakily dipped her fingers into the waistband of his pants, grazing the sensitive skin there.

"Cal, please," she begged. "Make it stop. Just make it stop." she cried, as ears slipped down her checks. Through blurry eyes, she crushed her lips to his roughly.

He instantly opened his mouth to her, tasting her tears as their tongues danced. He could feel her hand move further into his pants, moaning loudly when she wrapped her delicate fingers around his length.

Releasing her lips, he removed the hand that had twined in her hair and lightly grasped her wrist, stilling her movements. He gently tugged at her wrist until he felt her release him. If it were anyone else, he would let it continue; but not Gillian. He respected and cared for her too much. He loved her and couldn't let her do this. She was hurting, and as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't let it go any further.

Sighing softly, he pulled her close.

She buried herself into the crook of his neck as sobs racked through her small frame. She felt so fragile wrapped in his arms, and he was scared that the slightest movement would break her.

Gillian curled into him, clutching him tightly. "I'm sorry." She sobbed softly.

"Shhh, darling. You've got nothing to apologise for." He whispered into her hair, while stroking her back gently.

Gathering her into his arms, he stood, holding her tightly to his chest. He walked them into her bedroom and placed her gently on the bed, watching as she curled up on her side. He pulled the quilt up and covered her shaking form.

"Sleep, love. I'll just be down stairs," he whispered, softly placing a kiss to her check. Turning to leave, he felt her small hand grasp his wrist tightly. Looking back, he found her staring back up at him, her eyes puffy and filled with unshed tears.

"Stay," she pleaded, her voice thick with emotion. "Please."

Nodding slightly, he agreed. "Of course."

He watched her shuffle over, making room for him to lie next to her. He moved slowly, hesitantly lying beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and felt her relax against him. After a few minutes, he felt her breathing even out and placed a soft kiss to the back of her head.

"Don't leave me," she mumbled softly as she drifted off into a restless sleep.

Cal choked back tears, pulling her in tighter as he rested his head against her shoulder.

"I'll always be here, love. Always."

* * *

Comments always appreciated :)


	4. Breathe in and breathe out

_Just a bit of Angst. Interpret it anyway you want._

_Thanks to the usual people. __xoxo_

* * *

_Breathe in and breathe out._

* * *

Gillian felt her chest tighten as she looked at the calendar on her desk. The bold numbers stared back at her, mocking her as she was once again reminded of the consequences of her decisions.

She had to remember to breathe.

She needed to remember that the date would soon pass.

She needed to remember that the crippling numbness that wrapped itself around her would subside, and return to the familiar dull ache which she had become an expert at masking.

_Breathe in and breathe out. Move on and break down._

She was strong; so much stronger than she looked. To her friends she was a pillar of strength; always there to help, to guide, to support, never wavering in her loyalties even when taken for granted. No one knew what she kept buried deep inside hidden from the world.

Gillian felt her hands begin to tremble as the unmistakable feeling of regret settled heavy in her chest. She clamped her eyes shut as she willed the tears away.

_Breathe in and breathe out._

Cal entered her office, but stopped suddenly when he saw her sitting at her desk. He watched her for a moment as silent tears trailed down her cheeks. He could tell that she was trying to compose herself. He watched her shoulders shake as a battle raged inside her, her tiny frame rigid as she struggled to maintain control.

_Hold on hold tight, make it through another night._

He moved towards her without a second thought, and stood beside her. Cal turned her chair so she was facing him. He moved his hand to her tear stained face and gently cupped her cheek. Searching her face he waited until her eyes slowly opened.

Cal felt his heart shatter as he was met by her glassy gaze. She looked so small and fragile as he stared down at her.

_Breathe in and breathe out._

Gillian could feel him even before he made his presence known. Leaning into his touch as he gently caressed her cheek, she greedily took what little comfort he offered her. She felt his thumb gently brush away her tears, and knew know words were needed; they never were with him.

Gillian watched as he shifted in front of her. His eyes never left hers as he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his strong arms around her small frame. She allowed herself to fall apart in his arms as she buried her face into his neck. She was silent as he effortlessly lifted her into his arms and carried her to the couch before he placed her on his lap.

"_I've got you, love," _he whispered softly.

Cal could feel her nails claw at his shirt and he stroked her back softly in an attempt to calm her breathing. He held her to his chest and brushed the stray strands from her face before gently placing a kiss to her forehead.

'_She didn't deserve this', _he thought sadly.

Cal knew he was too selfish to ever let her go.

He knew she would never leave him. No matter how hard he pushed her, she would always be by his side and he would always be by hers.

He knew that she hid behind her smile.

He knew he couldn't say anything to take away the pain she was feeling.

All he could do was remind her to keep breathing, and hope that one day the pain would fade.

* * *

Comments and reviews always appreciated. Constructive or otherwise.


End file.
